Inside Tales
by secret1service
Summary: Go inside the world's most powerful inner circle.


_Garbage in, Garbage Out_

11:00 AM January 23, 2041

Living Room,

Second Floor, White House

"Good morning Mr. President,"

"Hello Cesar."

"What's on the agenda for today?" President Scott Marshall was reading the American Executive business magazine, sitting on the reclining sofa that Jacqueline Kennedy brought into the White House some 80 years before. On the coffee table next to him is filled with newspapers; a cup of hot chocolate over them. I was the Chief of Staff; the right hand man of the president and the one running the behind the scenes.

"Umm, your agenda for today," I looked at his schedule in my vanilla folder, "breakfast with the British Prime Minister and then some photo shoots," I said, "followed by your cabinet meeting. Also, you wanted to do something about Popular Mechanics?"

"Oh yes, remind me to change the address to all my magazine subscriptions."

"Very well," I couldn't help but make my annoyed face. Taking his last sip out of his coffee mug, Scott put down his magazine on the coffee table, stood up and began to make his way to the elevator. I, thinking it was no big deal, took all the papers on the table and tossed them into the trash bin as I made my way out of the room.

… … …

We both took the elevator, one of two in the actual residence, to the ground floor, which connects both wings to the main building. We walked through the Center, Hall which has a dramatic vaulted ceiling. As we passed by the kitchen, off to the right at the end of the hallway, I couldn't help but inhale, savoring the smell. We passed through the Palm Room and strolled through the West Colonnade, and open columned walkway that connects the West Wing with the main building. "Damn, its cold outside, huh?" He commented.

"Yup," I said comfortably, having a thick jacket on, "you should've worn a jacket." U.S. Ambassador to the United Kingdom, Garret Dole, met us inside the West Wing.

"Good morning Mr. President," greeted Garret.

"Good morning Mr. Ambassador," responded Scott.

"Mr. Wallace is waiting for you in the Roosevelt Room."

"Very well." We walked towards the Roosevelt Room, which is in the middle of the West Wing.

"Good morning Mr. Wallace," Scott shook the Englishmen's hand. The two statesmen greeted each other.

"Mr. President, it is an honor," said the round, short man. We walked across the hall into the Oval Office. I welcomed the Prime Minister's senior advisor and invited him to have a seat. At that point, Secretary to the President, Katie Johnson, signaled at me.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," I said as I stood up. I followed Katie into the Secretary's Office, a small room that adjoins the Oval Office and allows access to the Rose Garden and the Cabinet Room.

"Mr. Pumhiran has a package for the President," said Katie.

"Okay, thanks Napatr," I said as he exits. Napatr Pumhiran, a native of Thailand, is the top White House courier; the President's mailman. "What's in this box?"

"Umm I think it's the blue ray recorder he asked me to get him," said Josh Fulgencio while seating at his desk; one of two in the office. Josh is the President's Personal aide, or in political jargon, the body man.

"Why would he want this stuff?" I always knew that Scott was unpredictable, "we can record on any of these computes."

Josh said, "I don't know man."

"Let me have it, I'll leave it in the Oval Office." I took the brown-packaged box and left then on the President's desk in the Oval Office. The room itself is thirty-five feet by twenty-nine and eighteen feet high. On the ceiling is the presidential seal embedded. Three large windows with golden brown curtains are to the south. In front of them is the Resolute Desk, given to President Hayes by Queen Victoria made from wood taken from the ship HMS Resolute in 1880. Two flags, an American and the Presidential flag, flank the desk; a scene very well known embroiled by decades of presidential speeches given from this location. A large oval cream-colored rug with the presidential emblem in the middle covered the wooden floor. Also in the Oval Office, a Chinese-style mahogany coffee table, reupholstered high-back armchairs for in front of the fireplace and a pair of three-cushion sofas were the heads of state and their staff are seating.

… … …

2:15 PM

Oval Office

First Floor, West Wing

The meeting between the two heads of states had been over. . I walked into the Oval Office; Scott was just finishing up a phone conversation. "Is this the package that came?" he asked.

"Yes," I responded, "you know that if you wanted to record something, we have people that can do it for you; you didn't have to go out and buy this."

"Nonsense, help me open it. How's my schedule." I took out my PDA,

"You have a press conference in ten minutes. After that you have your cabinet meeting."

Scott said, "Let's try to set it up before I have to go." We both tried to figure out how to make the device work. "Why are the instructions in Chinese?" he asked.

"They're in Korean," I said trying to make sense of the illustrations.

"Chinese, Korean, same thing," he said. Sometimes it's hard for me to tell if he's serious or not. Renee entered.

"Trevor is waiting for you, sir," she said.

"Alright then, let's leave this here for later," said Scott about the recorder. "In the meantime, why don't you get the magazine I was reading upstairs and leave it here in on my desk," said Scott as he left. I made my way into the Secretary's office; I realized what I had done. Damn! I thought to myself, I threw it away. Josh noticed my worrisome expression.

"What's wrong," he asked.

"I think I threw away some magazine Scott wants. "I quickly took off and walked out of that office and headed to the residence. I ignored all the other staff members I passed along the way.

"Where's the fire?" joked Daniel Adame, U.S. Attorney General, walking past me. After a long trek, I finally made it up the second floor, exhausted after two flights of stairs. As I neared the living room, I heard voices, as if there was a meeting going on. Marissa Marshall, the President's wife, came out of the room, startling me.

"Cesar, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"Umm," how can I say this? "Have they come for the trash?" I knew I looked like a retard.

"Yes. Did you misplace something," she asked in a mocking tone. I turned around and went back downstairs; I didn't have time to chat. I had to find that damned magazine before having to go back for the cabinet meeting. Coming off the staircase into the Entrance Hall, I ran into Cesar Leon, the White House Chief Usher.

"Hey che," his nickname I gave him, "have they come for the trash?" I was referring to the garbage trucks that make their morning rounds.

"They've just left."

… … …

4:27 PM

Cabinet Room

First Floor, West Wing

Inside the Cabinet Room amassed the top officials of Cesar's administration. On the east wall there are four large windows that open out to the Rose Garden. An oval mahogany conference table, a gift from Richard Nixon in 1970, seats 20. Each Cabinet member is assigned a chair positioned at the table according to the date the department was established. The president occupies the taller chair at the center of the east side of the table and has a call button available to summon a White House steward.

I joined them as they were seating. The President sits closest to the middle on a chair taller than the others'. Vice President Matthew Moore sits opposite the President. Jocelyn Guevara, the Secretary of State (ranking first among the department heads), sits on the President's right. David Guevara, Secretary of the Treasury (ranking second) sits to the Vice President's right. Secretary of Defense Gareth Keenan (third) sits to the President's left, and Attorney General Daniel Adame (fourth) sits to the Vice President's left with other department heads seating farther away from the middle. Cesar enters the room and everyone stands. Having settled in, Scott commented smiling, "yes, this will be the seating arrangement for the next four years."

Secretary of State, Jocelyn Guevara joked, "No!" Everyone laughed.

"Well let's get down to business," Scott said, "You've all been given documents with policies and programs I want your departments to pursuit."

"Mr. President, some of these might need Congressional legislation to be able to implement them," asked a concerned Jocelyn. I responded,

"We can't let Congress run our show. He will be issuing executive orders in the following days to facilitate your staff in pursuing our policies," said I with an arrogant tone.

"Of course."

"Mr. President," said Gareth, "China's defense spending rose sharply this past year; their navy grew by 31 ships in the past 18 months."

"I wouldn't worry about that," said Matthew, "In my past experience with the Chinese during my days as a fisherman, I've managed to understand their train of thought." Stop talking! I thought to myself. "The China-man needs to overcome their physical shortcomings and prove their masculinity," said Matthew. Everyone in the room was staring at him; Matthew nodding.

"Let's keep an eye on them," said Scott. "Hey Michael," referring to Michael Math, Transportation Secretary, "the main priority of your office will be to start a financial aid program to help out student pilots. Ask Cesar if you have any questions." That was one of my pet projects.

A couple hours later, the cabinet meeting was barely finishing up, delayed by a barbeque lunch Scott had ordered for everyone. "Our Bison Conservation Initiative will expire this year and I'm happy to say that it has been a success with over 1 million Bison roaming our plains and 14,000 in our parks," extolled Secretary of the Interior Michelangelo Geovanny Landgrave.

"Does that mean we can hunt them now?" asked Matthew. I was glad Matthew was with us, I've always looked forward to his commentary.

Well gentlemen," said Scott, ignoring the fact that there were women in the room, "this meeting has been adjourned. Oh, I need help setting up TV recorders in the Oval Office." Daniel and Gareth nodded and I followed them to the Oval Office. Daniel took a look at the recording devices.

"Wow Mr. President, these are old; garbage compared with the new stuff today."

"So that's why they were cheap," said a disappointed Scott.

"Garbage? Hold on," said Gareth. He rearranged the wires and connected them directly to the plasma television on the wall.

"That's not going to work, Gareth," said Daniel. Gareth reprogrammed the television and viola, it worked!

"Good job Gareth," said Scott ecstatically.

"What were you going to watch?" Gareth asked.

"I borrowed a collection of Three Stooges, I was going to record them to watch them tomorrow."

"Nonsense, lets watch them now!" said an ecstatic President.

"Oh Mr. President," I started, "it seems that the magazines you wanted were misplaced, I couldn't find them."

"Oh, that's alright, I found another copy in my desk." Hiding my frustration, sat down with them; my feet were tired. "Anyone wants popcorn?" Scott took out a bag of popcorn and handed it to Renee; she headed into her office, where there's a microwave. Minutes later, Daryll Capistrano, Senior Advisor to the President, walked in with a bowl of buttered popcorn. "Daryll, come join us." I really hoped watching classic comedy programs wouldn't become the Wednesday evening tradition here.

Everyone laughed at the slapstick acts performed by Larry, Curly, and Moe. Maybe this laid-back environment of the President is for the best of us who work in these high-tense jobs. But on the other hand, it'll be up to me to keep everyone here focused. "This will be an interesting year," I whispered. Daryll, sitting next to me, leaned over to me,

"Four years, actually."


End file.
